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Sonnet Walk Weekend VIII (2018) – , Speeches & Sonneteers

THE PORTER - , Act 2 Sc 3 (Richard Neale) My glass shall not persuade me I am old, Knock, knock, knock! Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of So long as youth and thou are of one date; hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. Who's there, i' the name But when in thee time's furrows I behold, of Beelzebub? Then look I death my days should expiate. Here's a farmer that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty: For all that beauty that doth cover thee come in time; have napkins enow about you; here you'll sweat for't. Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Knock, knock! Who's there, in the other devil's name? Faith, here's an Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me: equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; How can I then be elder than thou art? who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary equivocate to heaven: O, come in, equivocator. As I, not for myself, but for thee will; Knock, knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may As tender nurse her babe from faring ill. roast your goose. Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain; Knock, knock; never at quiet! What are you? But this place is too cold Thou gavest me thine, not to give back again. for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. 25 'Faith sir, we were carousing till the second cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things…sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Let those who are in favour with their stars Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it Of public honour and proud titles boast, takes away the performance: therefore, much drink may be said to be Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most. on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread him stand to, and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a But as the marigold at the sun's eye, sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. And in themselves their pride lies buried, For at a frown they in their glory die. I pray you, remember the porter. The painful warrior famoused for fight, ------After a thousand victories once foil'd, MISTRESS QUICKLY - Henry IV Part 2, Act 2 Sc 1 (Eli Murton) Is from the book of honour razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd: I am undone by his going; I warrant you, Sir John Falstaff’s an infinitive Then happy I, that love and am beloved thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, good Master Snare, a Where I may not remove nor be removed. hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear: and I have ------borne, and borne, and borne, and have been fubbed off, and fubbed GRIEVING MOTHER – Sonnet 33 (Tiegan Byrne) off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing. He hath eaten me out Sonnet 33 of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of Full many a glorious morning have I seen his: but I will have some of it out again, or I will ride thee o' nights like Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, the mare. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in Kissing with golden face the meadows green, my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke thy head for Anon, permit the basest clouds to ride liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor, thou didst swear to me With ugly rack on his celestial face, then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady And from the forlorn world his visage hide, thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, the butcher's Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace: wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly? Coming in to borrow a Ev'n so my sun one early morn did shine mess of vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; whereby With all triumphant splendour on my brow; thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I told thee they were ill for a But out alack! He was but one hour mine, green wound? And didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, The region cloud has mask'd him from me now. desire me to be no more so familiarity with such poor people; saying Yet him for this, my love no whit disdaineth, that ere long they should call me madam? Suns of the world may stain, when heav'n's sun staineth. ------THE GERALDINE SONNET by Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (Tilly-Mae Millbrook) ------LORD MONTAGUE – Macbeth, Act 1 Sc 7 (Jack Whitam) From Tuscan’ came my lady’s worthy race; Fair Florence was some time their ancient seat; If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well The western isle, whose pleasant shore doth face It were done quickly: if the assassination Wild Camber’s cliffs, did give her lively heat: Could trammel up the consequence, and catch Fostered she was with milk of Irish breast; With his surcease success; that but this blow Her sire an earl; her dame of princes’ blood: Might be the be-all and the end-all here, From tender years, in Britain she doth rest But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, With king’s child, where she tasteth costly food. We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases Hunsdon did first present her to my een: We still have judgment here; that we but teach Bright is her hue, and Geraldine she hight: Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine: To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice And Windsor, alas, doth chase me from her sight. Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice Her beauty of kind, her virtues from above; To our own lips. He's here in double trust; Happy is he that can obtain her love. First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, ------Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, LADY OF THE HOUSE – Sonnet 22 & 25 (Johanne Murdock) Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Sonnet 22 Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been Sonnet Walk Weekend VIII (2018) – Sonnets, Speeches & Sonneteers

So clear in his great office, that his virtues 'Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well; The deep damnation of his taking-off; therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.' I will And pity, like a naked new-born babe, smile; I will do everything that thou wilt have me. Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed Sport royal, I warrant you! Upon the sightless couriers of the air, ------Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, HENRY COURTENAY – Wolsey’s arrest from Henry VIII, Act 3 Sc 2 That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur (Jack Wharrier) To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear And falls on the other. In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, ------Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. MARIA & MALVOLIO – , Act 2 Sc 5 Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; (Hannah Edwards & Robert Mountford) And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention MARIA Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee, Friends! Get ye all into the box-tree: yon gull Malvolio's coming down Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, this walk! I have dropped in his way some obscure epistles of love; I And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, can write very like my lady: on a forgotten matter we can hardly make Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; distinction of our hands, and he shall think, by this letter that they A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. come from Olivia, and that she's in love with him! Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. He has been yonder i' the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition: this half-hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of The image of his Maker, hope to win by it? jesting! Here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; MALVOLIO Corruption wins not more than honesty. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me: Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: should be one of my complexion. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, MARIA Thy God's, and truth's;. Then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Here's an overweening rogue! Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king; MALVOLIO And,--prithee, lead me in: To be Count Malvolio! There take an inventory of all I have, MARIA To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe, Ah, rogue! And my integrity to heaven, is all MALVOLIO I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell! Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state. Calling Had I but served my God with half the zeal my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from I served my king, he would not in mine age a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping,-- Have left me naked to mine enemies. MARIA ------Fire and brimstone! THE GARDENER - Richard II, Act 3 Sc 4 (Simon Nock) MALVOLIO And then to have the humour of state; and after a demure travel of Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks, regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs… Which, like unruly children, make their sire (mocking, telling her off) “Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight: at anything more than contempt, you would not give means for this Give some supportance to the bending twigs. uncivil rule!” Go thou, and like an executioner, MARIA Cut off the heads of too fast growing sprays, Bolts and shackles! That look too lofty in our commonwealth: MALVOLIO All must be even in our government. What employment have we here? You thus employ'd, I will go root away MARIA The noisome weeds, which without profit suck Now is the woodcock near the gin. The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers. MALVOLIO Why should we in the compass of a pale By my life, this is my lady's hand. To whom should this be? [Reads] ‘I Keep law and form and due proportion, may command where I adore: M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.’ Let me Showing, as in a model, our firm estate, see, let me see. 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may When our sea-walled garden, the whole land, command me: I serve her; she is my lady. And the end,--what should Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up, that alphabetical position portend? If I could make that resemble Her fruit-trees all upturned, her hedges ruin'd, something in me,--Softly! M, O, A,I...M,--Malvolio; M,--why, that Her knots disorder'd and her wholesome herbs begins my name! Soft! Here follows prose. Swarming with caterpillars? Reads Hold thy peace: 'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf: and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Go to, thou art made, if The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did shelter, thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow That seem'd in eating him to hold him up, of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She Are pluck'd up root and all by Bolingbroke, that would alter services with thee, THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.' I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green. Daylight and Champaign discovers not more! I thank my stars I am and Bolingbroke happy! Here is yet a postscript. Hath seized the wasteful king. O, what pity is it Reads That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land As we this garden! We at time of year Sonnet Walk Weekend VIII (2018) – Sonnets, Speeches & Sonneteers

Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees, Which by and by black night doth take away, Lest, being over-proud in sap and blood, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. With too much riches it confound itself: In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire Had he done so to great and growing men, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, They might have lived to bear and he to taste As the death-bed whereon it must expire Their fruits of duty: superfluous branches Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. We lop away, that bearing boughs may live: This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, To love that well which thou must leave ere long. Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down. What, think you then the king shall be deposed? Depress'd he is already, and deposed FALSTAFF – The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act 3 Sc5 (Jamie Baughan) 'Tis doubt he will be. Have I lived to be carried in a basket, like a barrow of butcher's offal, ------and to be thrown in the Thames? Well, if I be served such another ORCHARD - Under the Greenwood Tree from , Act 2 Sc 5 trick, I'll have my brains ta'en out and buttered, and give them to a dog (Rachel Winters) for a new-year's gift. The rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorse as they would have drowned a blind bitch's puppies, fifteen i' Under the greenwood tree the litter: and you may know by my size that I have a kind of alacrity in Who loves to lie with me, sinking -a death that I abhor; for the water swells a man; and what a And turn his merry note thing should I have been when I had been swelled! I should have been Unto the sweet bird's throat, a mountain of mummy. Come hither, come hither, come hither: Now, Master Brook, you come to know what hath passed between me Here shall he see and Ford's wife? No enemy The peaking Cornuto her husband, Master Brook, dwelling in a But winter and rough weather. continual 'larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of our encounter, after we had embraced, kissed, protested, and, as it were, spoke the Who doth ambition shun, prologue of our comedy; to search his house for his wife's love. And loves to live i' the sun, As good luck would have it, comes in one Mistress Page; gives Seeking the food he eats, intelligence of Ford's approach; and, in her invention and Ford's wife's And pleas'd with what he gets, distraction, they conveyed me into a buck-basket. Come hither, come hither, come hither: A buck-basket! Rammed me in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul Here shall he see stockings, greasy napkins; that, Master Brook, there was the rankest No enemy compound of villanous smell that ever offended nostril. But winter and rough weather. Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple of Ford's knaves, his hinds, were called forth by their mistress to carry me in the name of foul Under the greenwood tree clothes to Datchet-lane: they took me on their shoulders; met the Who loves to lie with me, jealous knave their master in the door, who asked them once or twice And turn his merry note what they had in their basket: I quaked for fear, lest the lunatic knave Unto the sweet bird's throat, would have searched it; but fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, Come hither, come hither, come hither: held his hand. Well: on went he for a search, and away went I for foul Here shall he see clothes. But mark the sequel, Master Brook: I suffered the pangs of No enemy three several deaths; first, an intolerable fright, to be detected with a But winter and rough weather. jealous rotten bell-wether; next, to be compassed, like a good bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head; and then, to be ------stopped in, like a strong distillation, with stinking clothes that fretted LILY POND – & 73 (Stephanie MacGaraidh) in their own grease: think of that,--a man of my kidney,--think of that,- -that am as subject to heat as butter; a man of continual dissolution Sonnet 71 and thaw: it was a miracle to ‘scape suffocation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more than half stewed in grease, like a Dutch No longer mourn for me when I am dead dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cooled, glowing hot, in that Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell surge, like a horse-shoe; think of that,--hissing hot,--think of that, Give warning to the world that I am fled Master Brook. From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Her husband is this morning gone a-birding: I have received from Nay, if you read this line, remember not Mistress Ford another embassy of meeting; 'twixt eight and nine is the The hand that writ it; for I love you so hour, Master Brook – I will address me to my appointment. Come to That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot me at your convenient leisure, and you shall know how I speed. Adieu! If thinking on me then should make you woe. O, if, I say, you look upon this verse We hope you enjoyed the Sonnet Walks. When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse. See you in the summer! But let your love even with my life decay, Lest the wise world should look into your moan And mock you with me after I am gone.

Sonnet 73

That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west,